Take Care

Playing Hide and Seek

The next morning, I awoke to another bright and sunny day. It was like a punch in the face because I knew today was going to be anything but bright and sunny. I stretched my arms high above my head and noticed once again, the bare spot in my wrist. I foolishly began to ponder all the different tattoos I could get for us. Maybe a heart and arrow with our initials or the date we met?

Soon I found myself indulging to deeply in him. It was possible that I thought about him too much and maybe I didn't do enough for myself. After all, I haven't gotten even one song completely finished because of him. I mean, he was my husband so I guess it's not a bad thing that I deeply care for him.

A moment later I heard a familiar Beatle's song being sung by a soft and high pitched voice. Then, in pranced a small body of messy Brown hair and messily painted nails. It was sort of something that ran in the family. She crawled up into the bed and poked my cheek. "Daddy? It's morning." She whispered. I smiled, "my eyes are open, aren't they?" And laughed. She giggled too and I noticed her eyes glancing at the empty side of the bed. I brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear. "He's okay. I promise." I told her. She smiled and I hoped to God that it was genuine.

Bandit was the type of girl that always had some fort of idea what was going on. Maybe she didn't know specifics but she had a keen sense of vibes. She knew something was wrong between Gerard and Lyn-Z and was prepared when they broke up. She was a smart girl and I knew she could tell something wasn't right. I prayed that I would have this sorted out before she found out to much. Bandit looked up to Gerard in a way that was so loving. She depended on him and I knew that. I can't imagine what'd it'd be like for her if she found him drunk. "Breakfast time?" She wondered eagerly. I was about to agree when I remembered he was probably down there. I knew he'd have a bad hangover and I knew he'd be grumpy and probably throw up. I, since I lived in a bus with him when he was at his worse, knew how to deal with it. Bandit though, wouldn't be able to handle seeing him like that.

"Why don't you have breakfast in bed today, princess?" I smiled and she nodded agressivley. She jumped off the bed and scurried away back to her room.

After I was sure she safe in her room, I threw the comforter off and managed my way down stairs. I held my breath nervously, rounding the corner into the kitchen. Fearing he'd be passed out on the floor. I entered the kitchen just as soon as my feet allowed it. Looking about, I came to the conclusion that he had found A better place than the tiles for the night. Relieved, I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and filled it with her favorite cereal, the one with the little marshmallows. I poured a glass of orange juice and put them both on a tray. I brought the breakfast up to her and set up a movie for her to watch on my laptop.

Closing her door behind me, I decided he was probably on the couch. I raced down the steps and slid into the living room, not wanting him to wake up alone. Once in the room, I crept up behind the couch, trying not to startle him. I peered over the side, preparing myself for dark eyes and a lopsided smile. I didn't have to though. He wasn't there.

Suddenly, I felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I ran to the window only to find what I had feared. His car was gone. Before I could assume the worst, I realized it was missing Because it was still st the bar. Honestly, I had never felt so relived.

So his car is still here, and he's not in the bedroom or the living room? I was getting tired of playing hide and seek with this grown man. Sighing, I took my time going back up the stairs and into the bathroom. "Alright Gerard, you're hungover. I get that but how stupid do you have to be to go on the-" I stopped myself when I realized the window was still closed. He wasn't out there. I stood dumbfounded for a moment. Where the hell is he? It took me less than three seconds to mutter vulgar curse words under my breath and get to the basement door.

It's my fault. It was my fault he was down there. Even for it being eighty degrees outside, the basement could get down to the forties. He spent the whole night down there. I hated myself for calling him a drunk and an alcoholic. I had driven him to the point where he didn't want to be seen.